Quiet now the sighing comes as day’s extent is done,
and here I sit in corner’s chair that by this pen might cull the sum,
the sum, that is, of life and love that passes through the day
and pulls the corners down to fit among these thoughts that stray,
that stray through life’s long memories with children gathered home,
who share sweet smiles in reverie, recount the years we’ve come to roam.

Can there be a heaven blessed beyond a peace as this?
Can there be some greater gift than drifting through this day’s sweet bliss?

I pause to see their faces, feel their hands from small to tall,
hear their laughter’s timber and the path that each one’s life does call.
By grandkid’s eager smiling eyes, by children’s happy grins,
my life in purpose rounded whole sets full within my soul again,
blessed to know the kindest fabric of life in fullest stride
where time grants blessing’s happiness to those I love and hold in pride.

For company, for policy, for rule and regulation,
for managers and presidents, and once a year vacations.

Hey! Listen!
You and I cannot be friends
for where your social antics start
is where my patience ends!
Yes, you were made my master
by the men for whom you slave,
and you think if you work faster
and make your men behave,
that you will one day be rewarded
by promotion up the ladder,
and the fools who did the work for you
will stay, they do not matter.

Oh yes, it’s very possible
and even what you need,
and you know with every rung you climb,
the more you’ll have to bleed.

For company, for policy, for rule and regulation,
for managers and presidents, and once a year vacations.

But remember this each time you kiss
the ass of your employer,
and he allows you to step further
form this common labor toilet,
that you should listen closely
for a thunder from below,
for it’s the laughter of this little man
who works down here, you know.

How quiet is the lonely wood
where ‘midst these markers lay –
How lonely are the steps between
the graves of those I walk today –
How peaceful is the summer corn
around this church’s graveyard stands.
How steadfast this emotion seems
When pen’d from living hands –

At rest and peace I find thee,
silent ‘neath the clustered trees –
With truth and love I bless thee,
while praying from my knees!